The Diego Diaries: Book Club(bing) (dd6 51)

-0-In a high rise

"This is fun. I wonder what the boys are doing?" Turbine asked as he finished off his beer. He pegged it into the collection container across the room and it landed perfectly. No matter how drunk the bots got, their aims never wavered. It perplexed and amazed the humans no end. When they were drunk, their aims were horrible.

"Osimus is ruling his planet," Prowl said as he lounged in his chair, his peds on the coffee table as he sipped another beer. His ada was watching him with great amusement.

"Ruling his planet?" Ratchet asked.

Prowl nodded. "Osimus is the big … ruler. He rules."

"I won't disagree with that," Delphi said with a smile. "You want another drink, Prowler?"

Prowl rolled his helm toward Delphi. "Keep them coming."

Delphi chuckled, then rose to walk to the counter where the bar was. Opening the fridge, he half filled a glass with juice, then added water. Walking back, he switched out Prowl's dozenth beer with a watered down glass of juice.

Prowl sipped it, then grinned. "Good. Tastes like juice."

"Imagine that," Delphi said with a grin.

Miler shook his helm. "He holds his liquor like my father did … badly."

"My old appa can drink a targ under the table. Right, Amma?" Ratchet asked.

Docker who was discussing the finer points of something or other with Blue, Ravel and Alor glanced his way. "Don't remind him, Sonny. That old mech is reformed."

Laughter greeted that. "Where?" Ratchet asked as Docker grinned.

"This is very amusing," Kestrel said. "I forgot how to have fun for a while."

"I can't imagine why," Ratchet said.

Kes grinned. "This is a dream, this life. Orion is such a good son and Prowl … we always liked him so. He was strong-minded and good for Orion."

"Hard headed, hard sparked, Our Prowler," Ratchet said with a grin as Miler smirked.

"My boy was always someone who wouldn't go down the road in the same way everyone else did, right, son?" Miler asked.

Prowl who had finished his drink and was halfway to recharge rolled his helm in the direction of his ada. "Okay," he said.

"No more juice for you," Delphi said as he took Prowl's glass. The big mech grinned, then shuttered his optics. Prowl was halfway to sleepy land. "First casualty of the skirmish."

"And he's going to miss the book discussion," Ratchet said to great laughter.

"All that fan fiction and no one to give us the stink optic," Alor said.

"I volunteer," Blue said. He looked at the others. "Do you know what fan fiction is?"

Kes shrugged but the others did having been tuned into it by Ironhide, Raptor and Typhoon. Blue grinned at Kes. Of course, that dignified mech wouldn't know what fan fiction was and he, Blue, was just drunk enough to educate him. "There's a lot of places on the world wide web on Earth where people write and post stories about us. Some of them are about all of us."

"Optimus is often a topic of discussion," Ratchet said agreeably.

"What do the stories say, Ratchet?" Kes asked with surprise. "This is amazing. Human people write stories about my son? What kind?"

Everyone looked at Kes for a moment as they warred with their consciences, then Blue leaned forward. Apparently, his was lying on the floor in a high grade stupor. "Some of them you wouldn't want to show your own ada."

Kes blinked. "Really?"

"Yes," Alor said with a smirk. "There's the ever brilliant 'Two Moons Over Cybertron' in which a great love story is cleverly written to show the universe one of the true … what do they call them?"

"Pairings?" Blue suggested with a snicker.

"Yes, great and true pairings of all time," Alor finished with a dazzling smile.

"You mean, they write about Prowl and my son?" Kes asked with a slight smile.

"No. Ironhide and your son among many others," Blue said. Even drunk, Blue hesitated to mention Starscream.

Kes stared at him, then everyone else. "Show me," he said.

Moments later …

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! THAT'S SO FUNNY!" Kes said as he scrolled through the story. "STARSCREAM! ORION'S NOSE! HAHAHAHAHAHAA! I HAVE TO SHOW THIS TO TAGG!"

Ratchet sat in his chair watching Kestrel of Iacon laughing his aft off about the great love affair that his son and Ironhide had that involved harems, fancy clothing, power tools, 'sex scenes' straight out of the textbooks for diesel repair of any tech school around, and himself. It delighted and surprised him that Kes was such a sport. The best part of it was that Kes wasn't even drunk.

"I found some more stories, Kes," Bluestreak said. He had been drinking. "Some of them are so weird and bad, I can hardly imagine it."

"Oh, my," Kes said with a big smile. "Show me. I feel so decadent."

Everyone laughed, especially Alor the Hoodlum as Bluestreak pulled up some of the most incomprehensible and bizarre fan fiction ever.

Moments later …

It was dead silent in the room as they digested the pungent odiferousness of the story that had just scrolled on the screen. Kes sat back, then almost involuntarily, a smile began to form on his handsome face. "Did we just read a story where a human gave a visitor a tour of the inside of my son's backside?"

Ratchet laughed, then nodded. "I hadn't seen that one. What a novel concept. I didn't know that your son's backside contained a beautifully appointed and furnished house."

HUGE laughter greeted that, then Kes shook his helm. "Show me more. I think Tagg needs to find out the glory of the human mind too."

Half a dozen stories later …

"You know, Kestrel … you're a sport. How many adas would have such a good time reading about their son's 'face life?" Alor asked as he sprawled on a couch.

"They included your son too," Bluestreak said with a smile.

"They did, didn't they … you know … I think we should join them. If you can't sue them, then join them," Alor said. "How about writing our own story and posting it. We can each write the chapters and post them. Rotate the story and make it a long one. Let them know what a real 'transformer' story would be like. What do you think?"

Everyone thought it was the shit. Kestrel pondered the ramifications a moment, then grinned. "How about making it dramatic, then comedic, then emotive, then … you know. Let's make it a real story. I'm taking a writing class at University. This will be good practice in writing fiction. Who will be the … what did you call it?"

"One true pairing," Alor said. "I think we need to make it interesting. How about having Optimus with someone else and Prowl be filled with angst and unrequited lust. You know … just like before."

HUGE laughter.

"I wish I had been here to see that," Kestrel said as he put his peds on the coffee table. "You don't mind if I put my feet up do you, Ratchet?"

"Nope," Ratchet said with a grin. "If it holds."

HUGE laughter.

"What shall our story be about?" Miler asked as he subbed a datapad that he always carried. "And what shall we call our club? Do we want anyone to know or what?"

"I think it would be awesome to write it a bit, then post it anonymously on the local net. Let it get around, then see if anyone can figure out who it is. That means we all swear to secrecy," Blue said as Ravel nodded. He was scandalized but if Kes was good with it, he was. He also wanted to be decadent too. For the first time in his life.

They all agreed. They also agreed that Prowl wouldn't be part of it until it was his turn and he had a chance to read all of it up to that point. Alor would follow Miler who would be first.

Miler who was secretly deliriously happy at all the fun grinned. "Name of the story? I need my inspiration. Also, what sort of plot do we want between 'facing?"

"Someone else will have to write those parts," Kes said.

HUGE laughter.

The plot was going to be serious, Prime and a small team looking for the AllSpark across the dark and dangerous universe. He would have Prowl as his unknown and hitherto for love interest but would be shagging Springer. That part was put in by a slightly tipsy Bluestreak after both the twins were shot down as incest.

(Ed. Note: While Springer and Optimus actually had a long and informal 'facing relationship that most of those present didn't know about short of Alor and Ratchet, they are not related. The twins are by bonding and other ethical linkages to be named later and even though the closest both ever got to Prime's person was his boot up their ass, they never 'faced.)

Miler who was delegated the first part in the SECRET LOVE SOCIETY BOOK AND WRITING CLUB or SLSBWC, (which means nothing but is a nod to the humans who like to speak in vowels) so he hunkered down in his chair to churn out the first segment while the others recounted embarrassing tales of their youth or got more beer.

Working Title (first segment: Miler of Praxus) - "Blood Moon"

The ship landed in the darkness of a strange new world and as it lowered its ramp, lights could be seen inside by those lurking to watch. They were bluish and seemed to hover in the dark interior. Then movement reminded the locals why it wasn't a good idea to remain. Familiar forboding shapes began to emerge from the ship, shapes that spelled chaos and death to anyone who got in their way. They melted back into the shadows, stepping back into alleys and side passages among the jumble of buildings that was the arrangement here in this outcast settlement.

Everyone knew who these beings were and what they represented. Danger and death followed them wherever they went and they weren't welcome anywhere. Their civil war never seemed to stay between the two sides but rather spilled its poison out everywhere. The big figures reached the ground, gathered, then began to walk along the muddy tract toward the largest building in town, the place where the miners gathered after work to be fleeced by the civilians the company hired to run the place.

Pressing themselves back against the water stained walls of a warehouse, three aliens watched them pass. The newcomers stared straight ahead until they drew even of them. The lights that were their eyes turned to stare as they continued, drawin cold fear from each of the three. The heavy sound of their treads in the dank mud and puddles faded away at last. The three aliens turned to each other. "We better send the word. You saw their markings."

The other two nodded, then the three disappeared together into the warehouses that surrounded them.

The night was deeply dark with the sound of animals calling from the dense jungle that surrounded the shabby mining town. A dirt runway that turned to mud this time of year during the rainy season was the only way out of here. It led to the airfield which was impassable half the time during this portion of the rainy season. The roadways that might have been crafted weren't as it seemed even the towns closest by had given up caring about them.

Fortunes were to be had here and they were but only the hardest and most cold blooded attained them. The rest worked hard, drank heavily and fought each other in informal games where the others bet on their favorites. It was brutish, dull and repetitive but the pay was good. It was accumulating in accounts in their home cities waiting for them to return. Some of them even did.

The intruders reached the building and paused in front of it. They were enormous, inscutable and emotionless appearing. The aliens around the area who had seen them coming had cleared out and it was quiet again.

"What do you want to do, Optimus?" a big mech asked. He was very tall, rangy, dangerous appearing, and of the type that most would guess would shoot first and check the situation later. "I could rip the top off and we could rummage for him."

"It is tempting. Springer," Optimus said. He, himself towered over the others, a tall and massively well made mech. His power was palpable and the others waited for his decisions. He was the leader and they were his soldiers. The Cybertronians always came like that, with a cold-blooded leader and his ruthless minions. Few walked away unscathed and many were the worlds that banned them, often with violence to back it up.

"Why don't we look in the windows. They'll have to come out eventually," a big mech said. He was Ironhide, a soldier's soldier who was as violent as the moment called for. It often did.

Prime nodded. "Recon, Autobots."

The big mechs in the group of five moved around the building, then knelt and leaned in to see inside. Their faces appeared in the windows and doors halting the scene inside. Screaming and the sounds of furniture being overturned in surprise greeted their presence. The lights went out inside.

The big mechs stood again, peering over the building at Prime. "What now, Optimus?" Springer asked.

"Take the roof off the building," Optimus Prime said in a cold voice. "I want to talk to Severn."

This story to be continued in a serial format. -Writer #1

Miler glanced up at the others with a smile. "I think I have it started."

"Read it, Milie," Alor asked as he sat with a plate of food once more.

Miler did. Then it was silent.

"Why, Milie … that was great," Kes said as he sat sipping juice. "I like it. Is that the length you want or will it be longer?"

"I'm going to continue and then post it to all of you tomorrow. I want to think about building in some more ideas before giving it to the next writer," Miler said with a smile. He was incredibly pleased that they liked his rather dark start on their long form story.

"Who gets the next part and where do we post it, Blue?" Corr asked.

Bluestreak opened Fan Fiction, a huge story website on Earth. "Here. Then we post it on here," he said pulling up Story Hub, a fan fiction-like website here on-world where writers could put their stuff up. "How do you want me to set up the accounts?"

They discussed it, then Blue complied. The account site name for both would be "Secret-Love-Society-Book-Club" and the writer(s) would go by the name of Writer. Nothing fancy. All of it designed to be anonymous. When all the set ups were made, the story was posted. Tracks were covered and all was well.

Ratchet grinned. "The site name sounds sort of like a stilted translation of Japanese to English. I love it."

Everyone did.

Docker being an organizational kind of gal took notes on her datapad about order of writing, the plot elements that they troubleshot and organized together for the next three segments, when and where they would meet -minus Prowl for now- to discuss and review the story, and who would be the 'steward' of the story:

*The Pit Stop hopefully over onion rings and burgers

*Every Martian Wednesday with publishing of the segment every Martian Friday

*Docker

The next segment would be written by Corr. He grinned with a nod. "I've been reading mysteries lately so this sort of theme I think I can continue. We are of one processor, right? No one knows but us?"

They swore on a six pack of Praxus Black Label.

-0-TBC 6-28-17 edited 6-30-17

(The story within a story will be continuing) -Me, maintenance engineer for the Secret-Love-Story Book and Writing Club :D

NOTES:

I will try and get the name of the guy who wrote a fan fic that was a highly detailed tour of the fancy dwelling up the ass of Optimus Prime. Truly. It exists. I will try and find it, then post it. It's so mind boggling that its probably the highest form of troll art in existence.

Of course, there is this one too:

Goku and Anne Frank in ''Until The End of Time''

Don't google it. Trust me on this. :D

I will tell you if you must google one, this one is by consensus opinion around the fan fic writing world the worst fan fiction ever written: My Immortal. (There is one worse and I'm looking for it. I think the writer was named Laura and she wrote back in the 1990's. If you think flames are bad now, you haven't lived. :D:D:D She wrote what was considered the absolute worst fan fiction of all time. I still remember it a bit to this day. LOL! Hugs!